


Training

by kitkatkaylie



Series: Theonsa Week 2021 [3]
Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Angst, Broken Theon Greyjoy, F/M, Hurt No Comfort, Puppy Play, but I don’t know how else to describe it, not really - Freeform, of a sort
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-09
Updated: 2021-03-09
Packaged: 2021-03-16 07:55:43
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 903
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29946867
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kitkatkaylie/pseuds/kitkatkaylie
Summary: Theon did not nod, for all that Sansa could see he wanted to, he’d been trained not to ask for anything and it was difficult to break such training. But he let out the sweetest of sounds, and his eyes widened with a silent plea.For the prompt: Puppy
Relationships: Theon Greyjoy/Sansa Stark
Series: Theonsa Week 2021 [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2197584
Comments: 3
Kudos: 11
Collections: Theonsa Week





	Training

Reek was a Good Boy. He knew this because his mistress told him so. She always called Reek a Good Boy which meant it must be true.

Mistress was  _ always  _ right. That was Rule Number One.

Rule Number Two was that Reek only needed to listen to Mistress, everyone else he could refuse if he wanted to. Mistress was kind to Reek, she didn’t make him do what everyone else said (not like Master had). 

Reek loved his Mistress, and his Mistress loved him.

So why did she look so sad whenever she looked at him?

* * *

Sansa curled her hand around the back of Theon’s neck and tried not to wince at the sweet sigh he let out. He would never be  _ Theon  _ again, only Reek. 

“Have you been a good boy today?” She crooned, forcing levity into her voice, “Have you been my sweet Reek?”

Theon nodded eagerly and panted a little, like the dog that Ramsay had tried to force him to be. Sansa tried desperately to make him act human again, but she had mixed results.

“Use your words for me, sweetling.” Sansa ran her fingers through his hair, “Good Boys use their words.”

Theon whined, and pressed into her hand. “Sweet Reek? Good boy? Reek is a Good Boy?” His voice was sweet and scared and it made Sansa’s heart clench in pain. 

“You are my Good Boy.” Sansa confirmed, not letting her pain show, “My good, sweet boy. And good boys deserve treats, don’t they?”

Theon did not nod, for all that Sansa could see he wanted to, he’d been trained not to ask for anything and it was difficult to break such training. But he let out the sweetest of sounds, and his eyes widened with a silent plea.

Sansa smiled gently, the sort of smile she had used to direct at Rickon when he was a babe, “I have a very special treat for you today, sweetling, because you are the best boy.”

Theon’s eyes widened, until they seemed to take up more than half of his face. He pointed to his chest, as though he could hardly believe that she was talking about him and had to make sure. 

Sansa picked up the small berry tart she had had prepared earlier, one small enough that it would not upset his stomach while still being a treat indeed. She was careful with what she fed Theon, having allowed him to gorge himself when she first gained custody, which had not ended well at all. For Sansa, Theon, or the bedsheets which he had covered in all the food he had eaten.

“All you need to do to get this tart is repeat after me: My name is Theon Greyjoy.” Sansa said, waving the tart under his nose, “Can you do that for me?”

Theon nodded eagerly, his eyes tracking the tart like Lady used to track chicken. 

“Good boy. Go on then, say the words.”

Theon frowned, an adorable little crease formed between his eyes, and his gaze never left the tart.

“My- my name is- is Theon Greyjoy.”

Sansa felt a glimmer of hope at the words, at hearing them said in  _ his  _ voice, but that hope soon died. There was no recognition in his eyes, nor his tone. He might just have been reciting the name of some long dead king instead of his own.

It was too much to bear. 

She handed him the tart, carefully and precisely, with every movement controlled. It would not do to have him think that she would not follow through on her word like his last so-called ‘Master’ had. 

And then, just as carefully she walked out of the room, into the small antechamber that contained her washbasin and mirror. She stared at her reflection in the mirror, and let out a long, shuddering breath. 

Sansa could not afford to break down and cry the way she wanted to, not when Theon was still so unwell. She had to remain strong for him. She had to keep a brave face on, and maybe he would start to heal. Or maybe, if not heal, maybe he would stop being so scared all the time.

She splashed water into her face, in an attempt to calm her mind. It worked, somewhat, and after another few deep breaths she felt calm enough to go back and face Theon once more. 

He had a trace of berry jam on his cheek, and sugar dusted his lip, and the sweetest smile on his face.

“Was that yummy?” Sansa asked in a bright tone.

Theon nodded, and curled into her leg as she sat back down. He pressed his face into her leg and inhaled deeply, Sansa could only be glad that he had stopped offering his mouth for her to use every time she gave him something. It had taken a while to train him out of it, but it was time very well spent. 

Now if only she could get him to answer to his own name instead of that hideous epithet gifted to him by the Bolton bastard.

“Lady Sansa?” Theon asked in a small, soft voice.

“Yes, my love?” 

“Am- am I a good puppy?” He ventured, very carefully not meeting her eyes.

Sansa's eyes filled with tears, and thick sobs choked her voice as she answered with the only answer she could.

“The best, sweetling. The very best.”

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading!
> 
> Find me on tumblr @istaricelebelasse


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